Holidate

by Monica Murphy

  “I’m not really in love with him,” I say, though I might be lying. “I’m just…massively in like with him. He’s so fun, and he’s so thoughtful.”

  Sarah is frowning. “Fun? Thoughtful? Are you sure this is the same guy you told us about?”

  I nod, suddenly realizing there’s a to-go coffee cup in front of me, and I bring it to my lips, taking a little sip. Ah. Gingerbread. “I know what Eleanor said about him. And I know what I said about him too. But, Sarah, he’s actually so sweet.”

  “Sweet like your brother?”

  “Jared is not sweet.” I make a face, imagining Jared acting like Charlie does when he’s with me.

  Ew.

  “He so is. When he’s with me. I’m guessing your Mr. Grumptastic is the same way.” Sarah smiles, looking pleased with herself.

  Mr. Grumptastic. That’s a good one.

  I launch into all of Charlie’s wonderful qualities, and how amazing he was to me last Saturday night, and how this weekend is the arts council event and it will probably test our newfound, delicate relationship, but I’m up for the challenge.

  “Jared and I are going, of course.” Sarah’s smile is sneaky. “Can’t wait for us to meet your new love.”

  “Oh God.” I moan, shaking my head. “I don’t want Jared to meet him yet.”

  “Why not? They’ll probably get along great,” Sarah says. They sound very…similar.”

  Problem? I don’t want Charlie freaking out, thinking what’s going on between us is serious and happening too fast. Though it feels serious and like it’s happening so fast, I’m not upset about it.

  Not at all.

  Charlie might be, though, if he’s made aware.

  Remember how I said I like Charlie slightly clueless? I think he might be right now. He’s just going along for the ride, having a good time, it seems.

  While I’m over here scanning Pinterest at night before I go to sleep, wondering if it would be cool or lame to have our wedding at the tree farm next Christmas.

  Yes, clearly I’m totally rushing it.

  “Charlie won’t bail if he realizes your family is going to be there, will he?” Sarah asks when I haven’t said anything.

  “No, he wouldn’t do that. Besides, the entire Sullivan family will be there, minus his youngest sister. They’re providing a bunch of gorgeous trees for our entrance decorations,” I say.

  “Ooh, now that sounds serious. So you’re going to meet the rest of his family? Are you nervous?” Sarah asks.

  “I wasn’t, but now I am.” I take another sip, then hear one of the baristas call Sarah’s name. “I’ll go grab our food.”

  Once I’m settled and we’re both eating our sandwiches, I ask Sarah, “Do you really think it might be serious, that I’m meeting his family Saturday night?”

  “Has he mentioned it to you yet?”

  I nod, munching on a homemade potato chip. I’m so glad they don’t give us too many on the plate. I’d eat every single one. It’s like I can’t stop. “I’ve met his mother, but not his brothers, dad or sister. He said they’d like to meet me.”

  “Meaning he’s been talking about you to them.” She points right at me with a chip. “That’s a good sign.”

  “You really think so?” The more I wonder, the more nervous I get. This isn’t good. I need to be calm and cool. Crap, I’m going to be so busy that evening making sure everything’s running smoothly, I’ll be lucky to get a bathroom break, let alone make small talk with Charlie’s family.

  “Definitely.” She sets her sandwich down. “Have you guys…” She lifts her brows up and down repeatedly.

  “No, no, no.” I shake my head vehemently, embarrassed. “I’m not ready for that.”

  “But supposedly you’re in love with him?”

  “I can be sort of in love and not had sex with him yet,” I tell her, sounding like a prim little maiden.

  “Sure, but you gotta test drive the car before you make the purchase.” She laughs, surely at the shocked look on my face. “I learned that line from Sex and the City. It’s stuck in my brain ever since.”

  “I mean, of course I’ll eventually test drive the car, but right now, I’m perfectly happy with admiring it from a distance,” I say.

  “Meaning you two haven’t even kissed yet?” Now Sarah sounds positively shocked.

  “Yes, of course we have.” My cheeks are warm. I’m not used to talking about this stuff with anyone, and they’re all so open with each other in their friend group. “He’s really good at it too.”

  “Oh yeah?”

  I nod. Shove my sandwich in my mouth so I won’t say anything else that could end up embarrassing me even more.

  We chat for a while, to the point that I worry about Sarah being late for work, and when she finally leaves I remain seated, pulling my phone from my bag so I can check to see if I have any notifications.

  Uh oh. I do. I have multiple texts from Joyce, my partner on the decorating committee for our upcoming event. Even a couple of missed calls from her too.

  Odd.

  Opening my phone, I skim over her texts, my anxiety rising with every one I read.

  Please call me.

  Call me.

  Or text back.

  As soon as you get this message.

  Candice.

  CANDICE!

  It’s imperative that you call me immediately.

  MY GOD CANDICE WHERE ARE YOU?

  I don’t bother listening to the voicemail she left me fifteen minutes ago. I call her right way, hating the panic that makes my chest tight.

  “Oh thank God, Candice, there you are! We have an emergency,” she says, her voice high-pitched and a little screechy.

  “What’s wrong?” If it’s something small, I might lose it. The woman’s texts just about gave me a heart attack.

  “The place we’re having the party at Saturday night?”

  “Yes?”

  “We can’t have it there.”

  I suck in a harsh breath. “Why not?”

  “It flooded last night. Pretty much everything is destroyed, and it’s going to take weeks for them to clean it all up and replace the carpet, some of the furniture. The woman who runs the place was so distraught, she apologized profusely when she let me know they had to cancel,” Joyce explains.

  “They had to cancel everyone?” Oh good Lord, where are we going to have this party? Everywhere else is booked up throughout the season. And I’m sure the organizations that were using the facility we reserved a year ago are out on the hunt, just like we’ll be.

  Meaning, our odds aren’t looking so good.

  “Of course. The room is completely unusable, Candice, as are their other rooms they rent out. I’ve been looking through the phone book, making a few calls, but everyone says they’re booked.”

  I love that she’s using the phone book. I didn’t realize they still made those. “They’re all booked because everyone’s put their deposits in ages ago. This is the busiest time of the year,” I explain, like she has no clue. But I know she has a clue.

  I’m just…crap. I don’t know what we’re going to do.

  “I know! I was just hoping for a last-minute cancellation somewhere. It could happen.”

  “Maybe.” My voice is full of doubt.

  “I just—I can’t believe we’re having to deal with this. Talk about a disaster. Do you think we’ll have to cancel the event?” Joyce asks.

  “No.” I shake my head, realizing quick that she can’t see me do that. “No way are we canceling. We can round something up.”

  “I hope so.” But the doubt in Joyce’s voice is clear. She doesn’t think we can pull this off. I need to prove to her—to everyone—that we can definitely pull this off.

  “I think I have a plan,” I tell her.

  I am lying. I don’t have a plan. But I’m trying to reassure her before she loses it. And if she loses it, I’m definitely losing it.

  “You do? Oh dear, that is such a relief. Can I leave it in
your hands then?”

  “Absolutely.” I sound way more confident than I feel. “I’ll find a location by the end of the day.” Wincing, I realize that’s in less than four hours, if we’re referring to work hours. “Or maybe by tomorrow. Yes, give me until tomorrow morning.”

  “Tomorrow is Tuesday, Candice. The party is Saturday night,” she reminds me, her voice now full of even more doubt.

  “I know,” I say. “I’ve got this.”

  “Wonderful. I know I can count on you, Candice. You always know what you’re doing, what you want. And you always make sure and go after it with everything you’ve got,” Joyce says.

  Aw, her words are so sweet.

  But I can’t linger on sweet compliments right now. I’ve got things to do and crap to handle.

  “Make sure you keep me informed, and as soon as you hear anything about a new location, please tell me,” Joyce continues. “We can then start spreading the word and letting everyone know.”

  “I’ll keep you posted.”

  I end the call, letting the panic fill my chest fully, to the point that it feels like it might explode with pressure. I can’t do this. I won’t be able to find something in time, and then we really will have to cancel the event, and it’ll be over before it even began.

  I can’t let that happen. But what else can I do?

  I decide to reach out to those who are closest to me.

  First I call my father. Surprisingly, he answers on the first ring.

  “Daddy! I need a favor.”

  “No, I can’t help you right now.”

  I burst out laughing despite my growing anxiety. That response is so Charles-like, it’s uncanny. “You didn’t even hear what I have to say yet.”

  “I know I won’t be able to help you, sweetheart. I thought it was best if I told you right away.”

  Ignoring him, I launch into my explanation, but by the time I’m finished, I realized he was right. He can’t help me. He’s currently out of town and attending endless meetings. I was lucky enough to catch him during his lunch break.

  I call Mitzi, who knows more fine ladies of society than I do. She said she’d get right on it and make a few calls, but I have a feeling she won’t get anywhere.

  Jared is next, and after he’s finished barking at me—he hates it when I interrupt him at work, yet he always takes my calls, so it’s his own fault—he tells me he knows no one with access to a giant room that can accommodate five hundred plus guests.

  Sarah is my last resource, and she answers her phone, which stuns me considering she’s at work and it doesn’t seem like her boss lets them use their phones throughout the day.

  “Let me ask Caroline,” Sarah says when I finish my explanation.

  “What do you mean you’re going to ask Caroline?”

  “Remember her boyfriend? Alex’s family owns Wilder Hotel Corp. The Pebble Beach location could have something available,” she says.

  “Are you serious?” I practically scream into my phone. “Oh my God, please ask her right now! Hurry!”

  “Fine, fine. I’ll call you back in a minute.” She ends the call before I can say another word.

  But she calls me back in less than ten minutes with bad news.

  “I’m so sorry, Candice. They’re full. Booked up through the rest of the holiday season. Caroline said Alex told her they have one small conference room that can fit only fifty people, and that’s it. And it’s available this Saturday afternoon from one to five,” Sarah explains.

  Disappointment fills me, and I lay my head on the table, my forehead pressed against the wood as I close my eyes. “Damn it,” I whisper.

  “Candice, did you just curse?” Sarah sounds shocked.

  “Yes, as a matter of fact I did, and I’m going to start cursing a lot more if I can’t figure out where to have this stupid party.” I lift my head and glance around the café. It’s starting to empty out, most of the lunch crowd gone, and I realize I need to stop making a spectacle of myself. People might start noticing.

  “Listen, I have to go and get back to work, but don’t worry. You’ll make it work. I’ll ask my boss if she knows of anywhere that’s open,” Sarah says.

  “Thank you so much, Sarah. I appreciate you asking around.”

  We end the call and I look at everyone still in the café. Most of them seem happy. Some of them even have smiles on their faces. It’s a bright, sunny day, though it’s terribly cold, and there’s music playing over the speakers. Taylor Swift murdering the song “Last Christmas.”

  George Michael sang it way better. Such a sad song.

  But I refuse to be sad. This year, this Christmas, is going to be the best one ever.

  It has to be.

  Twenty

  Charlie

  I’m in the store behind the register counter talking to my sister when I feel a shift in the air. Glancing up, I look around, all the hairs on the back of my neck standing on end.

  And that’s when I spot her.

  Candice.

  She’s just walked through the doors, bundled in a black coat with a festive red, white and green plaid scarf wound around her neck, and she’s the saddest I’ve ever seen her.

  Sadder than last Saturday night when that jackass ex-boyfriend of hers made her feel like shit. I take one look at her face, how her shoulders sag as if she’s completely defeated, and I walk away from the counter mid-conversation with Victoria, making my way toward Candice as if I can’t help myself.

  “Hey.” I gently grab hold of her elbow, and she turns, relief etched across her face when she sees me. “You okay?”

  “No. No, I’m not.” She shakes her head and essentially throws herself at me, pressing her face against my chest. “It’s been a terrible day,” she says, her words muffled against my flannel shirt.

  I cup the back of her head, smoothing her hair. “Tell me what happened.”

  “I just—I don’t know what to do. The building flooded and there’s nowhere else to have the party. It’s all ruined and I’m going to look like a failure.” She grabs hold of my shoulders with both hands, clinging to me.

  I have no idea what she’s talking about. She’s not making much sense. “Want to go back to my office and talk about it?” I murmur into her hair.

  She lifts her head away from me, nodding and sniffing, like she’s on the brink of crying. And that’s the last thing I want to see. Her tears just about destroy me.

  We’re headed back to my office when Victoria steps in front of us, stopping our progress. She’s smiling widely, looking kind of freakish really, and the curiosity in her knowing gaze is obvious.

  My little sister wants me to introduce her to Candice.

  “Charlie, who’s your friend?” Victoria blinks up at me, a picture of pure innocence.

  Trust me, it’s pure bullshit.

  I decide to keep this short. “Victoria, this is Candice. Candice, this is my sister.” I send Vic a look, hoping she can read it. Now is not the time for introductions and idle conversation for the next ten minutes. My girl is hurting and she needs to unload all of her problems on me.

  Wait a minute.

  Did I just call Candice my girl?

  Maybe I’m getting ahead of myself.

  “Oh my gosh,” Candice says, smiling so wide I swear she might hurt herself. “It’s so good to finally meet you.”

  She embraces Victoria tightly, and now my sister is the one giving me a look over Candice’s shoulder. One that says, what’s this chick’s deal?

  I mouth back to her, be nice.

  “You guys look like each other,” Candice says once she’s released Vic, her gaze going from me to Vic a few times. “Your eyes aren’t green, though,” she says to my sister.

  “That’s because they’re hazel.” Victoria laughs. “He’s the only one out of all of us with the green eyes.”

  “Don’t tell that to Russ. He’ll deny it,” I say jokingly, making Victoria laugh more and launch into a story about our younger brother. He’s
a pain in the ass, but always the one with the best stories.

  Candice clasps her hands together in front of her chest once Victoria is finished talking, the expectant look on her face pretty damn cute, even though I do secretly think she’s making a big deal out of nothing. “I’m so glad I got to meet you, Victoria. I was looking forward to us spending more time together at the party Saturday night, but now that it’s not going to happen after all, we’ll need to get together another time.”

  And just like that, Candice’s mood switches from happy to sad.

  “What party?” Victoria asks. “The arts council fundraiser?”

  Candice nods. “We’re going to have to cancel it. The building where it was supposed to be held flooded last night. It’s completely unusable. And there’s nothing else available this time of year. You know how it is.”

  So that’s what she was talking about. The flood, the party, where could it be held. It all makes sense now.

  “Oh no, that’s terrible. Isn’t the annual Christmas party one of their biggest fundraisers of the year?” Victoria is sad now too. I didn’t realize the arts council party was such a big deal.

  “It is. I’m on the board, in charge of the decorating committee too. Your family was going to provide trees for the event. It was going to look so cool, the trees lined up on either side of the entrance, like you’re walking into a forest.” Candice shakes her head. “I guess that’s not going to happen after all. I need to tell your mother, Charles.”

  Victoria’s brows shoot up at Candice’s use of Charles. I don’t let anyone else call me that. Not even my grandma, and I love that woman more than anyone else in the world.

  “I’ll let her know,” I reassure Candice, grabbing hold of her elbow once again so I can guide her away from Victoria and down the hall to my office. “We’ll be back in a few, Vic.”

  “It was nice to meet you,” Candice says, always so polite.

  Victoria watches us walk away, a dazed look on her face, and I wonder at that. But I can’t worry about my sister right now. I need to help Candice. Let her talk it out, tell me exactly what happened and see if I can help her.